25 Days of The Bransons
by gothamgirl28
Summary: Based on a Tumblr prompt I saw ages ago. 25 prompts over 25 days. The Bransons prepare for Christmas. Modern AU.
1. Day 1: Mistletoe

Tom entered the cottage he shared with his wife and daughter after a long day of work and stopped in his tracks. It looked like Christmas exploded in the cottage. Wreaths of holly and ivy hung from every door and garland was wrapped around the bannister leading to the upstairs rooms. Toy soldier nutcrackers lined the mantel above the fireplace and poinsettia plants were on the shelves and window sills. The side tables each had Christmas themed table covers on them. Multiple elves decorated the shelves and side tables.

In the midst of this Christmas chaos, Sybil was sitting on their sky blue love seat with her feet resting on the matching ottoman. Garland was strewn over her shoulders and she was drinking tea while rubbing her belly.

Tom chuckled at the sight before him, causing Sybil to turn her head. "You're home!" she exclaimed.

"I am," he responded. Looking around once more, he added, "I see you decorated today."

She gave him a small smile. "I did what I could and Moira helped."

"Where is she?" he asked as he hung up his coat.

"She's next door playing with Alice." She took a sip of her tea. "How was your day?"

"Busy." He began to walk around to face Sybil. "There was a last minute issue with my article, but it got resolved. I'm just glad to be-" He began to laugh as he came face to face with his wife. She was wearing a white maternity t-shirt with the phrase "Elf in training" over where the baby rested.

Sybil began to laugh with him. After a few minutes, the laughs died down. She reached out her hand to her husband and he took it. She gave a little tug, signaling for him to join her. A smart man, Tom happily plopped down next to her. The two began in companionable silence as he looked over her work again.

"You did a lot today. The only thing we need to do is put the tree up." He paused for a moment. "I'm surprised you didn't put any mistletoe up."

"Well, I'm thirty-six weeks pregnant, so I didn't think it was wise to get up on a chair." She then gave her husband a mischievous smile, before reaching to the table next to her and picking an item up. Holding the item over her husband's head, she continued, "However, you're sitting under some mistletoe right now."

She then leaned into her husband and kissed him passionately.


	2. Day 2: Hot Chocolate

Tom gazed up at the clock on his desk in his home office. Seeing the time, he rose and went to check on Moira and Sybil in the living room. The sight that welcomed him made his heart melt. Both of his girls were still sleeping, with Moira curled into her mummy and her thumb in her mouth. Sybil's left arm was wrapped around their daughter while her right one rested on her stomach. He smiled at his wife and daughter, then quietly left the room.

Knowing that they both would be up soon, Tom decided to make them a little treat. He went into the pantry and grabbed the sugar container and a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips. Bringing the items into the kitchen, he placed them on the counter. Next, he opened the cabinet where they kept the spices and removed the cinnamon sticks and vanilla pods. Lastly, he opened the refrigerator and removed an unopened liter of milk.

Tom had just placed the milk on the counter with the other ingredients when he heard a noise from the living room. He hurried out fo the kitchen and into the living room, where he saw Moira noisily waking from her nap. He quietly strolled over to his little girl and knelt beside her. She opened her eyes then and began to cry, a common habit when she woke from her naps. Tom opened his arms to her and she quickly threw herself into his embrace. He gently rubbed her back to comfort her.

Once she calmed a bit, he rose with her still in his arms and quietly left the room to allow Sybil some more time to nap. Outside of the room, he asked in a low voice, "Do you want to help me make a sweet treat for mummy?"

The little girl, with his coloring but Sybil's dark hair and rosebud mouth, nodded her head vigorously. Tom beamed at Moira's enthusiasm and kissed her on the cheek. "Okay. Let's go."

Returning to the kitchen, Tom put Moira down and grabbed a chair, moving it towards the counter. He then grabbed the rest of the equipment they needed. Opening the bag of chips, Tom let Moira measure out them out and pour them into a bowl, which he then set aside. He poured the milk into the saucepan and split the vanilla pod, adding the pod and beans into the milk.

"Can I add the cinnmon, daddy?"

"Of course you can."

He opened the jar and held it out to his daughter. Moira smiled and grabbed a stick, plopping it into the pan. Tom moved to the stove, on the left side of Moira, turned on the heat, and placed the pan on the burner. He grabbed a whisk and gently whisked the milk as it heated, not wanting a skin to form. Next to him, Moira watched the milk keenly, her attention so rapt she didn't speak. However, after a few minutes, she got restless.

"Is it done yet?"

Tom chuckled. "No, my little elf, it is not done. I'll tell you a story while we wait." He cleared his throat and began. "Once upon a time, there lived a brave and fiery little girl named Moira."

She giggled at the use of her name, but happily continued to listen to her father for the next ten or so minutes. Tom ended his impromptu story just as the milk finished cooking. He turned to burner off and removed the pan from it, placing it gently on the counter.

He turned towards his daughter and asked, "Do you want to add the chips?"

Moira's blue eyes widened and lit up, excited to help. She poured the chips in and watched as they melted while her dad whisked them in. After a few minutes, she tugged on his shirtsleeve. "Can I do that?"

Tom eyed her for a moment before nodding his head. "I'll hold the pan while you whisk. Okay?"

"'kay."

She started to whisk the mixture, mimicking her dad. When her little arm got tired, Tom took over. Once it was all melted, Moira added the sugar. Tom grabbed three mugs from the cabinet and poured the hot chocolate into each mug, giving generous portions to Sybil and Moira. At his daughter's insistence, each mug was topped off with whipped cream. Tom placed the mugs on a tray and with Moira leading the way, the duo walked to the living room.

Sybil was just waking from her nap, being roused by the smell of cinnamon and chocolate. Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the toothy grin of her daughter and the sight of her husband carrying a tray with three mugs.

"What's this?"

"A sweet surprise for you, mummy!" exclaimed Moira.

"Thank you, my loves. What did I do to deserve such a treat?"

"Just cause," answered her daughter.

Sybil beamed at Moira and Tom. "Well, thank you again." Opening her arms towards her daughter, she asked, "Will you sit with me?"

"Yes!"

The little girl embraced her mother and then hopped onto the couch. Sybil and Moira turned to Tom expectantly, both wanting their hot chocolates. He laughed at the identical looks they gave him and handed them their mugs.

"Remember Moira, blow on the chocolate before you drink it."

She nodded at her dad and did as he instructed. Sybil took a sip of her drink and smiled as the sweet and spicy warmth enveloped her. After several sips, the baby began to kick in earnest, enjoying their mother's drink. She sighed happily, enjying this special treat with her three loves.


	3. Day 3: Snow

Thank you everyone who has read and/or reviewed the story. I am amazed at the response I've gotten. Thank you. I hope you enjoy this new ball of fluff.

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><p>Moira sat bundled up in her parents' bedroom watching the snow slowly fall outside. The two-year-old sighed. She desperately wanted to go out and play in the fluffy white snow, but her mummy wouldn't allow it. She had woken up with a cold that morning and was confined to the comfort and warmth of the cottage. She hadn't complained about it, as she got to stay in her pajamas and drink tea with lemon and honey. That was until the snow began falling just after lunch.<p>

Her mummy entered the room, carrying two mugs of tea for the both of them. On seeing the piteous look on her daughter's face, Sybil felt her heart clench. She remembered being sick as a child and not being allowed to play in the snow. She walked around and placed Moira's tea on Tom's nightstand. Returning to her side of the bed, Sybil put her mug of tea down and got on the bed.

Pulling her daughter close, she whispered into her ear. "I know how you feel, darling. But I don't want your cold to get worse. Besides, it'll be easier to play outside after it stops snowing."

Moira eyed her mother suspiciously, causing Sybil to laugh at how much she looked like her Granny Maureen. The little girl crossed her arms, thinking her mother was laughing at her.

Sybil gave her a contrite smile. "I wasn't laughing at you. You looked just like your Granny Mo when you looked at me."

Moira smiled at her mummy's words. The little girl adored her Granny Maureen and loved being compared to her.

Sybil smiled at her daughter. "Also, Uncle Thomas and Auntie Gwen will be visiting tomorrow. I'm sure you can convince them to play outside with you. Uncle Thomas is an excellent snowman builder."

The little girl perked up at that. Not wanting to let her mummy know she was giving in, Moira said, "Well, I'll stay inside today. I can watch the snow fall from here."

Sybil smiled at her daughter and kissed her on the head. Mother and daughter then rested together for the rest of the day.

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><p><em>The Next Day<em>

Moira woke up from her nap surprisingly calm. She blinked a few times, confused and trying to adjust to her surroundings. Hearing voices in the kitchen, the little girl popped up, excited that their visitors were finally there.

She ran as fast as her little legs could carry her into the kitchen. Seeing two of her favorite people, she shouted, "Uncle Thomas! Auntie Gwen!" She proceeded to run up to them and give them hugs and kisses.

Thomas picked up the little girl and settled her onto his lap. Feeling much better than she did the day before and remembering what her mummy told her, Moira snuggled up to her uncle. Then she looked up at him with her big blue eyes and asked, "Uncle Thomas, do you want to build a snowman?"


	4. Day 4: Candy Canes

Author's Note: This story takes place the same day as Thomas's and Gwen's visit to The Branson cottage in the previous chapter.

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><p>Tom walked through the aisles of John Lewis, looking for a new tree topper for their as-yet-to-be-bought Christmas tree. While they had tree toppers at home, Sybil was unsure that the Weeping Angel or starfish ones were best considering that Moira was now two. It didn't help matters that her parents and sisters were going to be visiting them on Christmas Eve. At the very least, they could switch out their fun tree toppers for the traditional one for her family's visit.<p>

Finally, after ten minutes of searching, he found the tree toppers. Tom looked at the selections and chose a red wire tree topper. He decided to look at the fairy lights, remembering how mesmerized Moira was by them last year. He smiled when he saw the Star in a Jar lights, instinctively knowing they would be perfect to put up in her room. After that, he grabbed two bags of decorative snow and began to make his way to the checkout line.

It was one the way to the checkout that he saw them. Candy canes. He smiled, remembering his first Christmas with Sybil.

_They had only been dating for under two months, but Tom had known that she was the one since their first date. Unfortunately, he had only just begun working forThe Guardian and was limited with funds to buy gifts for people. It was her suggestion that they each make their gifts. He wanted his gift to Sybil to be perfect. While Tom loved the idea, he wasn't sure what to make for Sybil, a girl who could get anything that she wanted._

_It was three days before they were to exchange gifts when he finally knew what to make her. Tom had been shopping in Tesco when he saw the boxes of candy canes. Remembering Sybil's love of candy canes, he bought all four boxes. He made a quick stop at the florist and returned home, setting about making her gift._

_Three days later, they met at Tom's flat to exchange gifts. Sybil insisted that he open his first. He excitedly did, opening a box to reveal a charcoal drawing of Bulloch Harbor in Dalkey. He loved and pulled her in for a passionate kiss, feeling like she had given him a piece of Ireland._

_After they separated, Tom nervously handed her a box. Sybil tore apart the wrapping paper, enthusiastic to see what Tom made for her. Once the wrapping paper was off, she opened the box and pulled out a miniature Christmas tree potted in a candy cane vase. She squealed in delight and threw her arms around Tom, kissing him and telling him how much she loved it._

_"It's coming with me to Downton. I even know where I'm going to put it in my room."_

Returning to the present, Tom grinned. He put two boxes of candy canes as well as green ribbon into his basket andgot on the checkout line.

Two hours later, Tom entered his home. "I'm home!"

Moira came running with Sybil following on her heels. Both stopped when they saw two candy cane bouquets in his hands. He grinned and dramatically bowed down to them both, causing his daughter to break into giggles. "Two bouquets for my two loves," he announced.

Moira giggled and ran up to get her bouquet. Sybil followed behind her. When she got to her husband, she smiled, remembering their first Christmas. Sybil leaned in and whispered, "I love you." She then chastely kissed her husband.


	5. Day 5: Christmas Tree

The farm I mention in the story, Crockford Bridge Farm, is a real farm and shop in Surrey. It's located within the Greater London Urban Area. My headcanon for this universe is that The Bransons live outside London in Surrey, but still within a reasonable distance so that Tom can commute to _The Guardian_ and Sybil (when not on maternity leave) can commute to St. Thomas's Hospital.

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><p>Moira ran through the tree section of Crockford Bridge Farm, unable to contain her enthusiasm as she and her parents shopped for their Christmas tree. She scurried up and down the aisles, taking in the beautiful and aromatic trees. Every once in a while she would stop and consider a tree, before she would shake her head and move on. She looked at the Nordmann Firs and Blue Spruces, taking a particular liking to the spruces. However, the Norway Spruces caught Moira's attention. The little girl halted in front of one that was seven feet tall. After considering it for a moment, she laid down underneath, hands underneath her head, and gazed up through the branches.<p>

Tom, having trailed closely behind his daughter, shook his head when he saw her on the ground. He walked up to her feet and spoke to her. "I doubt mummy's going to be happy that you're getting your clothes dirty, love."

Ignoring his remark, she replied, "Daddy, join me. It's so pretty."

He knelt beside her then answered her. "I'm not sure, love. Mummy, won't like it if we both get dirty."

She sighed dramatically. "Please daddy."

Moira leaned forward, giving him a look at her big blue eyes that were so much like her mother's. He knew he was a goner and accepted his defeat. Tom laid down next to Moira and followed his daughter's gaze up through the branches. It was a beautiful sight to behold.

She placed her tiny hand in his and gave him a look. He chuckled.

"Is this the tree for us, Moira?"

She shouted her answer. "Yes! Can we get it daddy?"

He brought his hand to chin and rubbed comically, as though he was deep in thought. Moira giggled at his antics.

"I think we need to ask mummy what she thinks."

"What mummy thinks of what?" asked Sybil. She had gone into the shop to pick out some produce and order their Christmas turkey. She only caught up to them when she saw their legs underneath the Norway Spruce.

Moira popped out from under the tree. "Mummy, what do you think of the tree?"

Sybil inspected the tree. "It's the ideal height. I like it."

Her daughter smiled up at her. "Come under the tree. It's so pretty, mummy."

Tom chuckled at his daughter's enthusiasm as he crawled out from under the spruce. "I don't think mummy can, love."

"Because mummy's too big."

He laughed, not expecting his daughter to say _that_. Sybil did not look amused.

"I'm not _that big_," she replied, slightly miffed.

Father and daughter looked at each other guiltily. Moira went up to her mother and gave her a hug. "Don't worry mummy. I think you're pretty."

Tom walked over and kissed his wife on the cheek. "As do I love."

Sybil tried and failed not to show how they were melting her. She returned their hugs and kisses before resting her head on Tom's shoulder.

Moira, being two and impatient, asked again, "So?"

"So what?" remarked Tom with a smirk on his face.

"Are we gonna get the tree?"

"Of course!" replied Sybil. "It's absolutely perfect for us." Looking directly at her husband, she added, "Daddy will take care of it while you and I get some hot chocolate."

"Great!"

Sybil looked at her husband, kissed him on the cheek, and uttered. "That's for laughing when our daughter called me big."

He smiled. "Punishment accepted. Though to me, I think you're always gorgeous." Wrapping his arms around his wife, he added, "Especially when you're pregnant."

Tom followed his words with a very passionate kiss. They pulled away after a few moments when Moira began to tug on her mummy's hand.

"To be continued, Mr. Branson."

With that, she walked away with their daughter.


	6. Day 6: Angel

Tom put another ornament on their tree, this one a fairy ornament that belonged to Sybil. He descended from the step stool he was using to reach the top branches of the tree and took the tree in.

"It looks fantastic, Tom," remarked Sybil. "Very beautiful. Right, Moira?"

The two-year-old nodded her head vigorously. "Very pretty, daddy!"

Tom chuckled. "Well, I think that's all of the ornaments."

"No! Olaf! Olaf!" yelled Moira.

Tom turned and looked at his daughter, bouncing in her seat in her reindeer pajamas and holding up the Olaf ornament Martha and Isidore sent her. He smiled tenderly at her.

"How could I forget?" Taking the ornament from her, he asked, "Where should I put it, love?"

She pointed to a spot about a foot and a half from the bottom of the tree, convenient for her to play with whenever she wanted. Tom, ever indulgent of hsi daughter, placed Olaf where she wanted him. As he stepped away from the tree, Sybil gave him a look, exasperated at how Tom was such a soft touch. He smirked, knowing she was right.

"I need a break before we put the tree topper on."

"Sit here, daddy," Moira said as she pointed to the spot in between her and her mummy. He walked over and gladly sat between them. Turning to Sybil, he started to ask, "Which topper shou-"

"Ugh!" interrupted Sybil.

Both Tom and Moira looked at her in concern, causing her to laugh. "I'm fine. Our youngest kicked me incredibly hard in the ribs. Poor little thing is running out of room in there," she said as she rubbed her rounded stomach.

"Can I feel the baby?" asked Moira.

"Of course," her mother softly replied.

Moira scrambled onto her daddy's lap, accidentally jabbing him in the stomach. Tom grunted, but didn't say anything. His daughter's enthusiasm was not something he would try to diminish. He kissed her curly head and watched as she placed her hand on Sybil's stomach. The look of wonder on her face as her baby brother or sister thumped her hand in greeting took his breath away.

After several minutes and Moira kissing Sybil's stomach, the family returned to the matter at hand: finishing decorating the Christmas tree. The lights were strung and the ornaments were up. All they needed to pick out was their tree topper. They had three options. The more traditional looking wire star he bought for less than £5 at John Lewis two days ago, the starfish they bought on vacation four years ago, and their personal favorite of a Weeping Angel.

"Argh!" exclaimed Sybil. "I don't know which one to go with. I know you picked up the star because my family is coming over on Christmas Eve and my father always makes comments about some of our more unusual decorations, but it just doesn't feel right for us."

Tom nodded in understanding and agreement. He never understood why his father-in-law always was so particular about things. "Okay. Which one do you want to put up?"

Before Sybil could answer, Moira spoke up. "The Angel."

"Why the angel, love?"

She paused to gather her thoughts. "Because angels belong on the top of trees."

Sybil chuckled at her daughter's reasoning. "I vote for the angel as well," she said.

Smiling, Tom replied, "Okay. The angel it is."

He rose from his seat and picked up the Weeping Angel from the side table. He slowly climbed up the step stool and placed the tree topper on the tree. He spent a few minutes adjusting it, ensuring that it wouldn't fall off. Once he was satisfied, he returned to the ground and returned to his spot in between his wife and daughter.

"Yay!" exclaimed Moira. "Hi Angel! You make the tree so, so pretty."

As their daughter continued talking to their tree topper, Tom leaned in towards his wife and whispered, "Are we horrible parents for allowing our daughter to talk to a Weeping Angel?"

Sybil chuckled softly. "Their not real, love," she softly uttered. "It's harmless." She paused for a moment. "Though she might not think so when she sees Blink."

Tom nodded. "No Doctor Who until she's fourteen. At least."

His wife shook her head at him. "So protective."

He wrapped his arm around his wife and said, "I know. But you two are _my angels_ and I never want to see you weep."

With that, he kissed her softly.


	7. Day 7: Pie

Thanks for all the reads and reviews! I'm glad that everyone is enjoying these stories.

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><p>Tom entered the kitchen to make two cups of hot chocolate for Moira and himself before they sat down to watch <em>The Muppets Christmas Carol<em>. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Sybil bustling about the kitchen. Seeing the various ingredients out, he realized she was baking. He decided to avoid doing the kitchen dance and opted to make instant hot chocolate instead. He filled the electric kettle and turned it on.

As he took out two mugs and emptied the contents of two hot chocolate packets into them, Tom asked, "What are you making, Syb?"

She looked up, not realizing her husband was in the room with her. "I'm doing a mince pie dry run."

Tom raised his eyebrow at his wife. "I thought you knew how to make mince pies. You made them last year, right?"

She sighed. "I do and I did. But this recipe is different. It switches orange juice for the brandy to be more pregnancy friendly. I got it from Samantha at Mommy and Me. She told me it's best to use it as soon as possible after making it because the orange juice doesn't preserve the same way as the brandy does. I wanted to see how it tastes before Christmas Eve. With you and Moira watching a movie this morning, I thought it would be the best time to try it."

He nodded his head and smirked. "You mean that since I'm home to distract Moira, you can concentrate on baking without a two-year-old asking five million questions."

She pursed her lips, trying not to smile, but failed miserably. "Yes."

He chuckled and kissed her on the cheek. "I am happy to distract our daughter for a few hours."

The kettle whistled and he went back to making the hot chocolate. He added some milk and tossed a candy cane into Moira's cup. As he walked out of the kitchen, he said, "Have fun, love."

Sybil smiled at Tom's backside and went back to her mincemeat, noticing that she forgot to grab the candy peel. She began to make the mincemeat up just as "Scrooge" began to be sung. She completed that quickly and put it aside. She then began to make her pastry. Once that was done, she wrapped it and put it in the fridge.

She cleaned up while it chilled and even made herself a cup of herbal tea. After about a half hour in the refrigerator, the dough was ready. Sybil rolled it out, cut out the needed rounds, and spooned in the mincemeat. She re-rolled the leftover pastry and made lids for the pies, placing them on top. Once she was done, she placed the pies in the oven and set the timer for fifteen minutes.

Again, while she waited, Sybil cleaned up. She then sat, resting her feet on the chair opposite her. Soon, the fifteen minutes were up and the mince pies were done. She removed them from the oven and placed the pies on a rack to cool off. She heard "Thankful Heart" being sung and smiled, knowing Tom and Moira would be joining her. Needing another cup of tea, she put the kettle back.

Sybil's tea was brewing when she heard the clatter of tiny feet approaching the kitchen. Moira busted into the room, smiling and singing "It Feels Like Christmas." On smelling and seeing the mince pies, her smile grew and her eyes widened in joy.

"Can I have one, mummy?" she asked.

"You can have two, love. Do you want some apple juice?"

"Yes, please," answered Moira as she took her customary seat at the kitchen table.

As Sybil grabbed a juice box from the fridge, Tom entered the kitchen. After inserting the straw, she handed Moira her juice box. He pulled out a chair for Sybil to sit down in and took his seat once she was settled. She grabbed two mince pies from the rack and handed them to Moira and Tom. Sybil then sat back and waited to hear their verdict.

Moira bit into hers almost instantly. "Mmmmmmmmm," she mumbled. "It's yummy, mummy!"

Sybil smiled at her daughter and replied. "Thank you, love." Looking at Tom, she asked, "What do you think?"

Tom was thoughtfully chewing and waited to answer until, he swallowed. "It's good. It doesn't taste exactly the same, but I like it." He paused to savor the taste. "Are there cranberries in the mincemeat?"

She nodded. "Samantha told me I didn't have to put them in, but she felt that they complemented the orange juice." She took one off the rack and bit into it. "I have to agree."

"So do I."

"Me too," Moira added.

Sybil and Tom chuckled at their daughter's zeal.

"So should I make these for Christmas Eve?"

"YES!" shouted Moira.

"Moira, there's no need to shout," lectured Tom. He turned to Sybil. "I do agree with our overly eager daughter. You should make these for Christmas Eve. Your mother will like them and your sisters always love everything you make. Your father might grumble about breaking tradition, but I bet if you mention the pregnancy and rub your stomach, he'll melt instantly."

Sybil smirked. "He does get all mushy over his grandchildren, doesn't he?"

Tom beamed. "Moira has him wrapped around her little finger. She'll get him to come around."

Though they were talking about her, their daughter wasn't listening. She quietly finished her pie as her parents talked. When she finished, she asked, "Can I have more pie?"

"Yes," Sybil said, "More pie for all of us."


	8. Day 8: Tinsel

Thank you again for all the views and lovely reviews. By the way, I know I say that Moira is two, but if anyone is wondering, she will be three in February.

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><p>Sybil walked carefully up to the master bedroom, a tight grip on the round, white laundry basket filled with Moira's clothes. Once in her room, she put the basket on the bed and sat down. She quickly set about folding the clothes, knowing her daughter would be up soon from her nap.<p>

After fifteen minutes, her task was complete. With the newly folded clothes back in the basket, she rose and headed for Moira's room down the hall. As she neared the room, Sybil heard her daughter's laughter and smiled. She was pleased that Moira had woken from her nap in a good mood. Grinning, she knocked and swung open the door.

The sight that greeted the young mother stunned her. There was her dark-and-curly haired two-year-old daughter dancing in the middle of the room, throwing loose silver tinsel in the air. The little girl was laughing and enjoying herself so much that she didn't hear her mother enter her room.

"Moira Evelyn Branson! What on earth are you doing?" exclaimed Sybil.

Unfazed by her mother's outcry, the two-year-old turned to her mother and grinned. "I'm playing with the tinsel, mummy!" She tossed some more into the air. "Isn't pretty?"

Sybil looked around the room, seeing tinsel everywhere. Slowly she replied, "It is…but" _your room is a mess_, she wanted to say. Instead, she said, "Where did you get the tinsel?"

"Daddy left it on the table this morning."

"And you took it?"

Realizing that she might have done something wrong, Moira looked down and nodded her head.

Sybil sighed and rubber her head. She put the laundry basket on her daughter's bed and kneeled down. "You shouldn't have taken the tinsel, darling."

Moira gazed up at her mummy, unshed tears in her eyes. "Am I in trouble?"

"Only a little trouble. You'll have to clean your room up." _Daddy's in bigger trouble for leaving the blasted tinsel out_, she thought.

"Even the baby's room?" asked Moira.

Sybil's eyes widened. "What did you do in the baby's room?"

"I'll show you," Moira said, reaching her hand out to her mother.

Sybil rose up slowly and took her daughter's hand. The little girl led her mother back up the hall to the nursery and pushed the door open. Her mother blinked as she took in the nursery. Moira had wrapped red tinsel garland around the bars of the baby's crib.

"I thought the baby would like it," the little girl said in a tiny voice.

Sybil sat down in the rocking chair and beckoned Moira over. "I'm sure that if the baby is born before Christmas, he or she will absolutely love it. It was very thoughtful of you to decorate the baby's crib."

Her daughter smiled at her mother. Sybil kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Go and clean up your room now. When you're done, we'll have some apple slices. Okay?"

"Okay, mummy."

Moira then scurried off to her room to clean up. Sybil stayed in the rocking chair, pulled out her iPhone, and took a picture. She sent it to Tom as a message with the caption "Moira's gift for the baby."

She smirked and typed in another message. "Oh, you're picking up dinner and dessert tonight. And you're taking us on an outing tomorrow after my doctor's appointment. It's punishment for leaving tinsel out within reach of a 2 yr old."

Sybil hit send and laughed.


	9. Day 9: Ice Skating

First, I want to thank the lovely _**magfreak**_ for helping me out with some questions I had about pregnancy. I want to thank everyone who has read and/or reviewed this series. This has been a wonderful challenge and I'm thrilled that all of you like it.

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><p>Sybil laid on the exam table, waiting for both her obstetrician and her husband and daughter to come into the room. After several more minutes of waiting, Tom entered carrying Moira.<p>

"There you are," Sybil said. "I was wondering if you got lost on the way back from the loo."

Tom shook his head and smiled. "No. Moira was greeting everyone she saw and I had to pull her out of one of the open exam rooms. She was absolutely fascinated with all the medical stuff." He smirked. "I wonder where she gets it from."

His wife blushed and softly chuckled. "Yes. I wonder."

He sat down on the chair next to the exam table, placing Moira on his lap. "So after we hear the heartbeat, I'll take Moira back to the waiting room and you'll get a pelvic exam. Right?"

Sybil nodded her head. "Correct."

She smiled at her daughter, who was busy looking around the room, curious about the place. "Are you excited to hear the baby's heartbeat?"

Moira shifted her gaze to her mother and smiled. "Yes, mummy."

At that moment, Dr. Taylor entered the exam room. "Hello Sybil. Tom," she greeted the expecting parents. "And hello Miss Moira. I haven't seen you in a long time. My how you've grown."

The two-year-old smiled shyly at the doctor, obviously not remembering the doctor who delivered her almost three years before. The doctor smiled kindly at the little girl and asked her some questions, quickly gaining a new friend.

After some quick questions about how Sybil was feeling, Dr. Taylor prepped the fetal Doppler and placed it on Sybil's belly. After a moment or two, she announced, "And there's the heartbeat."  
>Moira's eyes widened in a mixture of shock and delight as she heard the <em>whomp-whomp-whomp<em> of her unborn sibling's heartbeat. She leaned forward in her excitement. "Very fast."

"It is fast," replied Dr. Taylor. "But that's a good thing. It means the baby is healthy."

The little girl nodded solemnly. The adults chuckled and Tom kissed her on the head.

They listened for a little while longer before Sybil's exam had to move forward. Tom picked Moira up and they went to the waiting room for the remainder of the exam.

xxx

An hour and a half later, the Bransons arrived at the destination for their family outing: the Ice Rink at the Natural History Museum. They had ten minutes to spare before Tom and Moira would get fitted for their ice skates. Sybil, being so pregnant, was going to grab a hot chocolate and watch them from the open air balcony. She noticed that her husband was looking around, as though he was expecting someone to join them.

"Is someone going to join us, Tom?"

He turned to look at her and grinned. "Yes," he replied, nodding his head in her direction.

Sybil turned and gasped in surprise. Her parents were walking towards the trio, both smiling and waving.

"Granny and Grampy!" shouted Moira, jumping up and down.

When they reached the Bransons, Cora embraced Sybil. Robert swept his only grandchild up into his arms and planted a kiss on her cheek. Sybil looked at Tom, delighted with his surprise.

Robert spoke first. "I hope you don't mind. Tom called and invited us to join you here today."

She beamed at her father. "Not at all! I'm glad you both could come. Will you both be skating today?"

"No," her mother answered. "I'll be staying back with you. Moira will have her father and grandfather's sole attention this afternoon."

Looking at Sybil, she asked, "How was your doctor's appointment? Everything is okay?"

"The baby is fine. It was a normal weekly checkup. We brought Moira along because we wanted her to hear the baby's heartbeat. She took it very seriously."

Moira nodded her head. "The baby is healthy."

Robert smiled at his granddaughter. "Fantastic! Are you looking forward to being a big sister?"

She nodded her head enthusiastically. "I'll play with the baby!"

Tom smiled, but checked his watch. "Let's head over to get fitted for the ice skates and hire a penguin skate aid for Moira."

A little over forty minutes later, Robert, Tom, and Moira were booted up and on the ice. Cora and Sybil bought hot chocolates and a slice of cake (for the baby) from the Café Bar. The two sat down to watch their family out on the ice, talking about various things. They chuckled as they saw Moira hugging her penguin skate aid, while Tom and Robert watched her like a hawk.

On the ice, Robert and Tom looked on adoringly as Moira learned to skate. It was a difficult task, which was made more difficult by the toddler's fascination with her skate aid. As an instructor worked with her, the two men talked.

"What inspired you to arrange this?" Robert asked.

Tom gave him a sheepish look. "Sybil ordered me to." He gently kicked the ice. "I left two bags of tinsel out on the table and Moira got a hold of it. She decorated the baby's crib with red tinsel garland and tossed the entire bag of loose silver tinsel around her room."

His father-in-law chuckled. "I take it you were in trouble."

"I was."

"Then why invite us?"

Tom looked at Robert. "One, you're Moira's grandparents and I thought you'd like to join us. Two, I figured one of you would sit with Sybil to make sure she wasn't by herself."

He paused and looked at his daughter. "And I wanted Moira to have some attention from the four of us before the baby's born. She's excited for the baby at the moment, but I'm afraid the reality won't live up to her expectations."

Robert looked at Tom. "She'll be fine. Just set aside some one-on-one time with her, even if it's just you for the first month or two. Moira's much sweeter than Mary was at her age."

Tom raised his eyebrow at his father-in-law's words, causing the older man to chuckle. "Okay. Most children are sweeter than Mary was at that age. But Moira is so much like Sybil, she'll be asking to help whenever she can."

It was the younger man's turn to chuckle. "You have no idea how much she's like Sybil. At the doctor's office, Moira kept stopping to say hi to people and she was fascinated with the medical equipment. I had to pull her out of the exam room."

Robert heartily laughed. "Then you have nothing to worry about! Besides, she'll be starting at the Montessori school soon."

"True."

At that moment, their conversation was halted by Moira's shouting. "Daddy! Grampy!"

Both men looked up to see her skating straight towards them. Robert and Tom both crouched down and opened their arms to the little girl. Within moments, she skated happily into her father's and grandfather's arms.

From the bar, Sybil and Cora looked on at the scene and took pictures.

Thirty-five minutes later, their skating adventure was over with. Moira was exhausted, but happy. She had fallen on her butt a few times, but laughed it off. Though she did have a minor tantrum over not being able to bring her penguin skate aid home with her, Sybil and Cora were able to calm her down.

After they left the rink, the quartet grabbed a bite to eat, deciding on pizza. When they were done eating, the Bransons and Crawleys parted, but not before Robert made a promise to his granddaughter. "I'll get you your very own penguin aid for Christmas," he whispered to her.

She beamed at him and said, "I love you, Grampy."


	10. Day 10: Frost

Once again, thank you for all of your lovely comments, whether here or on tumblr. I don't think it's my best, but I do hope you enjoy today's fic.

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><p>Moira awoke early the morning after her ice skating adventure. She tried to fall back to sleep, but after a few minutes, she threw the covers off and crept out of her room to her parents room. She pushed open the slightly ajar door and scurried in, smartly heading to her father's side of the bed.<p>

She stood there for a moment or two, hoping he would wake up. However, when that didn't happen, Moira shook her father's arm. Tom opened one eye and startled a bit at seeing his daughter standing there.

Before she even asked, he pushed the covers off and opened his arms to her. Moira quickly hopped into the bed and wriggled into her daddy's embrace, feeling warmth embrace her as he pulled the covers back over them. Tom kissed her curly head and the two of them drifted back off to sleep for another half hour.

When he woke up, Tom was relieved to see that his daughter was also awake. He gave her a smile and placed his index finger over his lips into the silence sign, not wanting to wake Sybil. Then he pulled off the covers and carried Moira down to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Placing her on the counter, Tom asked, "What do you want for breakfast, love?"

"Soldiers and strawberry jam," she replied. "And an egg!" she added.

"Scrambled?"

"Yeah."

He looked at her with a mischievous smile. "Do you want the soldiers to look like soldiers?"

Moira grinned and nodded her head. Tom kissed her on the cheek and went about making breakfast. In ten minutes, they each had a plate with one scrambled egg and three soldiers and strawberry jam. Tom placed the dishes on the table opposite each other. He then scooped Moira off the counter and placed her in her booster seat.

Father and daughter were just starting to eat when Moira exclaimed, "Daddy look! Ice leaves on the window!"

Tom's head popped up and he turned his head to where she was pointing. He smiled when he realized what she was talking about. Moira had noticed the frost on the kitchen windows.

"It's frost, love."

"What's frost?" she asked.

Tom paused, not quite remembering what he learned when he was in school. "It's a form of ice."

"So they are ice leaves!" she exclaimed, happily biting off the head of one of her soldiers.

He chuckled. "Not exactly. It's ice, but it's not leaves. It's just the way it froze."

Moira sighed. "Fairytale ice," she uttered.

"It does look like fairytale ice," he agreed. He leaned in, a twinkle in his eye, and asked, "Do you want me to tell you a story?"

She beamed and shouted, "Yes please!"

He cleared his throat and began his tale. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful little girl named Moira. She was a sweet little girl and the princess of Surreiana."

Tom wove an enthralling story for the little girl, keeping her entertained for fifteen minutes. He was finishing the tale when Sybil came down the stairs. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, listening.

"Princess Moira waved her hands and created ice trees for all of the forest creatures to enjoy. She and her family lived happily ever after. The end."

Moira clapped her hands enthusiastically and was joined by Sybil.

"That was wonderful, darling," she told Tom.

He smiled at his wife. "Thank you. Do you want something to eat?"

Glancing at the table, she answered, "I wouldn't mind some soldiers myself."

Tom rose from his seat and gestured for his wife to take it. She did, carefully sitting down.

As he went about making her breakfast, Sybil asked, "What inspired such a lovely story?"

Moira answered for her daddy. "The ice leaves, mummy!"

Sybil turned to look at the window and saw the 'ice leaves' as her daughter called them, now starting to melt. She smiled. _What an imaginative family I have._


	11. Day 11: Eggnog

I wrote this in under and hour! I just finished writing my thesis, so hopefully I can get these drabbles written and posted earlier than I have been. Again, thank you for reading and reviewing this fic.

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><p>Sybil closed the door behind her and giggled. She had just brought Moira next door to play with her best friend Alice. While she absolutely loved her daughter, Sybil wanted some time to herself. Besides, she needed to satisfy a craving. A craving for eggnog.<p>

She removed her coat and waddled into the kitchen. She smiled when she saw the cashews soaking. While she loved traditional eggnog, being pregnant meant that she couldn't consume raw eggs. Sybil mentioned this in antenatal class and one of the other moms-to-be, Hazel, brought in a recipe for her. It required the use of cashews, coconut milk, dates, and maple syrup, amongst others, but it did sound yummy.

Sybil drained the cashews and added them to her blender, along with two fresh cups of water. Once they were smoothly blended, she added the rest of the ingredients and blended them together. It took a while because of the dates, but eventually Sybil had a smooth holiday concoction. She poured it into a container and refrigerated it.

With Moira at Alice's for the next several hours, Sybil walked into the living room and picked up John le Carré's _Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy_. She had been trying to read it for over a month, but between her pregnancy and her daughter, Sybil had barely made a dent in the book. Now, she was going to enjoy reading for a few hours.

Three hours later, Sybil finished reading another chapter of her book. Seeing the time, she texted Joan, Alice's mother, and asked when she should pick Moira up. Two minutes later, she received a response telling her that both girls were napping and that she could pick her daughter up before dinner. Sybil smiled and texted Tom, asking him to pick Moira up before he came in.

With those tasks done, she got up and made lunch. As she ate her sandwich, she kept eyeing the fridge, desperately wanting a glass of the eggnog she made. Sybil quickly finished her lunch and unable to resist any longer, grabbed the eggnog from the fridge. She poured a healthy portion into a glass and brought it into the living room with her. Returning to the living room, she sat back down, bringing her legs up on to the couch.

Taking a sip, Sybil smiled. "Mhmmmm. Happy Christmas to me," she softly said out loud.


	12. Day 12: Cider

Author's Note: The pub I mention in the story is fictional. I couldn't find any London pub or bar menu that featured hot apple cider. While I'm sure there are pubs that do have it on their menu, I couldn't find it listed on their websites. I decided for my sanity that I would create a fictional pub. Thus The Eagle was born.

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><p>Tom entered The Eagle and looked around, seeking out the face of his best friend Matthew Crawley. He noticed a hand waving and realized it was his friend. He hadn't recognized him at first, as Matthew's hair was shorted and no longer blonde. He smiled and walked over to the table.<p>

Grinning, Matthew rose from his seat and hugged Tom. "How are you, Tom? I heard from my mother that Sybil's pregnant again. Congratulations!"

Tom laughed. "I'm grand! Sybil's due after Christmas, though my mother keeps saying she thinks the baby will be born on Christmas. Sybil doesn't want that to happen."

"Because she doesn't want to be in labor on Christmas day. I can't say I blame her."

"Actually, she doesn't want the baby to be born on Christmas because she thinks the baby will get one gift for Christmas and their birthday," responded Tom.

Matthew smiled, remembering how Sybil thought of others. "How's my goddaughter doing? Is she excited about being a big sister?"

"She's fantastic," Tom replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a minute or two, he handed the phone to Matthew, showing off pictures of his daughter. "She is excited. She decorated the baby's crib with garland the other day."

Matthew chuckled. "Oh she's so beautiful! She has Sybil's hair and eyes." He sighed. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much for the last year. I've missed all three of you."

Tom nodded in understanding. The two men had met the first New Year's of his and Sybil's relationship. They became fast friends as they bonded over dating two of the Crawley sisters. However, Matthew and Mary had broken up in November of last year. After that, Matthew had jumped at a chance to work in New York for a year. Though he and Tom had kept in touch via email, Matthew had distanced himself a bit due to Sybil being Mary's sister.

"We've missed you too, Matt. Especially Sybil." He looked his friend directly in the eye as he continued speaking. "We don't know why you and Mary broke up, but Sybil never felt the need to take sides. You're Moira's godfather and she refused to cut you out of our lives."

Matthew blushed and looked down at the table, humbled by his best friend's words. He was about to speak when their server came up to them.

"Good evening! May I take your drink order?"

"I'll have a hot cider with rum, please," responded Matthew.

Tom raised an eyebrow at his friend, causing him to laugh. "After living in New York for a year, I can tell you from experience that nothing warms you up quite like a hot apple cider. Especially if it has a splash of liquor in it."

Nodding his head, Tom replied, "Oh what the hell! A hot apple cider but make mine with whiskey."

After their server left, the two continued talking. "Do you and Sybil know if the baby is a boy or girl?" asked Matthew.

Tom shook his head. "No. Another delivery room surprise for us."

"Do you have a preference?"

"Not really. I mainly want the baby to be healthy. I do sometimes think it would be nice to have another girl. Who wouldn't want to be the only man in a house full of beautiful women? Other times, I think it would be great to have a boy. Mostly for Sybil. Moira's such a daddy's girl that I think she deserves a mummy's boy."

The other man cracked up at that. While he was laughing, their drinks arrived. Matthew took a sip of his first. Tom followed him and was pleasantly surprised by the taste. Between the heat of the cider and the natural warmth of the whiskey, he felt like he was finally thawing out from the blustery day. Not to mention, it tasted great!

"This is very good," he said. _Sybil would like this. I should take her here next year if this place is still around_, he thought.

Shortly thereafter, the two placed their food orders. They continued talking for the next few hours, discussing everything from work to Christmas plans. As they moved on to their third hot apple cider apiece, Tom's lips loosened up.

"Mary isn't seeing anyone," he blurted out. "She did briefly go out with Damien Collins around the summer, but that unsurprisingly didn't last. She's supposed to visit us next Saturday and on Christmas Eve."

Matthew glared at Tom, who responded quickly. "I'm not saying you have to show up. I'm just mentioning it in case you want to talk to her. You still love her, Matt. I can tell."

His friend shook his head in exasperation. He was still in love with Mary and he knew what Tom was trying to do. At least, his best friend had good intentions.

Matthew sighed. "I'll think about it."

An hour and another cider later, the friends parted. Tom grabbed a cab to the train station and was able to get the last train back to his village. He fell asleep shortly after taking a seat and didn't wake up until the stop before his. Luckily for Tom, he only had a five minute walk back to his home.

Tom stumbled into the cottage not long afterwards and quickly made his way to his bedroom. He tossed off his clothes and got into bed, cuddling up to a sleeping Sybil, accidentally waking her. She smiled lazily at him and gave him a small kiss on the lips, tasting the cider and whiskey on his tongue. Within moments, Tom was asleep, causing his wife to chuckle. She settled into his embrace and soon joined him in sleep.


	13. Day 13: Peppermint

I'm sorry that this didn't get posted last night. I was falling asleep towards the end of the story and only just managed to post it on tumblr. I hope you all enjoy.

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><p>Sybil and Tom were exhausted as they entered the Caffé Nero on Southampton Street. They had left the cottage early that morning, needing to drop Moira off in Notting Hill to be watched over by her Aunt Edith. From there, they had gone Christmas shopping, needing to finish getting gifts for Moira and each other, as well as for a few family members.<p>

As soon as they entered the café, the couple searched for an empty table, finding one towards the back. Sybil waddled over to it and took a seat, not wanting anyone to take the table from them.

Tom chuckled at his wife's determination. He approached their table and placed their bags on his chair. He then kissed his wife on the cheek.

"I'll go get our food and drinks. What do you want?"

Sybil scrunched up her face as she thought about what she wanted. After a few minutes, she answered. "The BLT, a bottle of water, and a hot chocolate. The peppermint hot chocolate, actually."

He arched an eyebrow at his wife's request, but didn't comment on it. "Okay. I'll be back in a bit."

While Tom was getting their food, Sybil took out her iPhone and went over Moira's Christmas presents. Today, they had gone to Pollock's to search for some unique toys for their daughter. After an hour of shopping, they left the store with an Alice in Wonderland coloring book, a Snow White necklace, a paper doll set, and a doll changing mat with nappy. As she typed the last item into her list, Sybil smiled. That had been a steal, selling for over half off its full price.

Looking through the bags to make sure she didn't leave anything out, Sybil saw their extra purchase: a small rubber giraffe for the baby. She rubbed her stomach, wanting to share her happiness with the baby. They had found it Hamley's that morning. Tom saw it first and showed it to Sybil. They both heartily agreed to get it for the baby. _Baby's first Christmas gift_, she thought.

After waiting for a little while longer, Tom returned to their table with their food and drink. He handed Sybil's her sandwich first. Without hesitating, she removed the wrapper and took a big bite out of her BLT.

"What did you get?" she asked as she sipped some water.

"The roast beef sandwich and a cappuccino," he answered as he handed her het peppermint hot chocolate.

As they ate, they discussed their holiday plans, as well as the gifts they bought today.

Tom took a sip of his cappuccino. "Are we done with Moira?"

Sybil nodded. "Yes. With today's haul, we have all of her presents. Remember, your parents have bought her a teddy bear and mine are getting her Legos."

He chuckled. "Our parents spoiler her."

"I know," she replied, giving him a little smirk. "But there's nothing we can do about it."

"True."

"We got my parents' gifts today and Edith's too." She scanned up and down her list. "It looks like we have something for everyone. We're done!"

They lifted their cops to each other in celebration, after which they each sipped their beverages. After she sipped her peppermint hot chocolate, Sybil did a little dance in her seat. The taste of the peppermint and the cocoa transported her back to her childhood and to winter days when she would sit in her room, eating peppermint humbugs. She sighed in happiness.

Tom gazed up at her. "Everything okay, love?"

She smiled dreamily at him. "It's perfect. It's just not officially the Christmas season without the taste of peppermint. _Now_ it's Christmas.

He grinned at her. "Good to know that since you decorated our house last week."

She threw a paper napkin at him, which caused him to laugh.

"Don't mock me, Mr. Branson."

"Or what?" he replied.

Smiling, she answered, "Or else."

Tom chuckled at that. "You know I love you, Syb."

"I do know," she said.

Smiling, he leaned it and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. After they parted, he licked his lips tasting the peppermint and chocolate from her hot chocolate. He smiled at the thought of peppermint kisses. With that, he leaned in for another.


	14. Day 14: Gingerbread

Thank you again to everyone who has read and/or reviewed the story. Here's the next installment.

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><p>"Are they done, mummy?" asked a very impatient Moira.<p>

Sybil chuckled. "The cookies are almost done, love. You just need to wait."

The little girl rolled her eyes at her mother, as Moira had heard that for the last half hour. The last tray was in the oven and would be done in ten minutes. Sybil watched as her daughter stared at the cookies cooling on the rack, desperately wanting to eat one. The young mother knew she had to do something to keep her daughter occupied.

"Moira, do you want to help me make the icing?"

The toddler turned to her mother and nodded her head. Sybil grinned at her daughter and brought the nearest chair over to the counter. Then she crooked her finger at her daughter, signaling for her to come to the counter. Moira scurried over and climbed onto the chair.

"Okay," said Sybil, "we have the powdered sugar, meringue powder, the bowl, and the whisk. We just need the warm water."

She moved to the sink and filled the measuring cup up to the 80 ml mark, knowing she wouldn't need to use it all. Sybil then returned to Moira's side. She opened the box of powdered sugar and emptied it into the bowl. She let Moira add in the meringue powder, helping her daughter with the measuring. Once that was in, Sybil picked up the whisk with her right hand and the measuring cup with her left, and slowly began to add the water to the bowl while whisking the ingredients together. After about five minutes, the icing was ready.

"Can we ice the cookies now?" asked Moira.

"No, but soon. Why don't you go play with daddy for a little while? I promise to call both of you in when it's time to ice the cookies."

Moira thought about her mother's idea for a minute or two before answering. "Okay, mummy."

With that, the little girl scampered out of the kitchen and to her father's office. Sybil sighed, slightly relieved to have Moira occupied with something else. She was about to sit down when the timer went off and it was time to take out the last tray of gingerbread cookies.

Forty-five minutes later, all of the cookies were cooled enough to decorate. While she had been waiting, Sybil had prepped for decorating, putting individual toppings in their own separate bowls. Before she called her husband and daughter in, she was going over the decorations to make sure she had everything. _Chocolate sprinkles, colored sprinkles, gumdrops, mini M&Ms, licorice strings…I think that's everything._

Content that she had everything ready, Sybil walked to the kitchen doorway and called for Moira and Tom. In no time, her family was entering the kitchen, a very excited Moira dragging her father behind her.

Once the icing was in a piping bag, the Bransons began to decorate their cookies. Sybil was in charge of the icing while Moira and Tom were responsible for the decorations. While it wasn't the easiest of tasks with a rambunctious toddler to manage, it was still so much fun.

After a half hour of decorating, Tom pulled off a gumdrop button from a gingerbread man, altering his voice as he spoke. "No not the buttons. Not the gumdrop buttons!"

Moira laughed at her daddy's antics. After that, all three Bransons made the cookies talk as they decorated them, each commenting on the choice of buttons, hair, etc. Before they knew it, they were down to their last four cookies: three regular sized gingerbread people and one baby (as Moira called it) gingerbread person. They decorated these quite simply, opting only for icing and candy buttons.

"Can I eat one now?" asked Moira.

Tom and Sybil chuckled. "Yes you can, little one," answered Sybil. "Which one do you want?"

She picked a cookie with the M&M buttons and dress outline and bit off it's head.

"Very good choice, love," declared Tom. He then chose a gumdrop button and colored sprinkle cookie, biting the head off as well.

Sybil chose one with M&M buttons and icing hair, taking a bite out of its arm. The three ate their cookies quickly, mmmm-ing as they ate. Soon, their three cookies were gone and it was time to clean up. However, Moira stopped them.

"Wait! The baby hasn't had a cookie."

She picked up a baby gingerbread cookie and handed it to her mother. "For the baby," the little girl uttered.

Sybil took the cookie from her daughter, fighting back tears at Moira's words.

"Go on eat it, mummy!"

Her mother listened, popping the cookie into her mouth. Bending down as best as she could, Sybil looked lovingly at her daughter and whispered, "The baby loved the cookie. I think he or she wants more."

The little girl shook her head. "No baby. They're for Christmas."

She then hopped off her chair and ran out of the room. Her parents sighed. Tom then smiled at his wife and wrapped her in his arms.

"I'll go after her in a minute so you can clean up. Then we'll order dinner. Whatever you like."

Sybil rose as best as she could and kissed Tom on the cheek.

"Thank you, darling."

Tom kissed her in return, then left to find their daughter. As she cleaned up, Sybil gave the gingerbread cookies a soft smile, thinking about how her daughter made the day sweeter.


	15. Day 15: Presents

Again, thank you to everyone who has read the story and reviewed. I love the response this fic collection has been getting. You guys are amazing!

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><p>Sybil was sitting on the floor of the living room, trying to choose between a white bow and a gold one for Mary's Christmas gift. She was holding them up to compare them when Tom came back into the room.<p>

"The gold one," he said, startling her.

She gave him a look to signal her annoyance with him. It quickly melted when she saw he was carrying a cup of herbal tea for her. Tom placed the cup on the nearest side table before he moved onto the floor to sit next to Sybil.

"I can wrap the gifts, love. You should be sitting on the sofa."

A determined look swept across her face at Tom's words. She knew he meant well, and that on some level he was right, but she always enjoyed wrapping her gifts for her family.

Seemingly reading her mind, Tom continued. "I know how much you like to wrap the gifts you give, but you're 38 weeks pregnant. You'll be more comfortable on the sofa telling me what a bad job I'm doing or ordering me to use the green wrapping paper instead of the dancing penguin wrapping paper."

Sybil laughed, his words hitting their mark. She nodded her head and Tom helped her get up from the floor. Once she was settled on the sofa, he insisted that she put her feet up. Tom then grabbed their wool blanket, a wedding gift from his cousins in Galway, and covered Sybil's legs and feet. He returned to the floor and began to survey what he had left to wrap.

As Tom took up where Sybil left off, placing a gold bow on Mary's green paper wrapped gift, she took a sip of her tea. Glancing at the clock, she realized how long he took tucking Moira into bed.

"Did bedtime go smoothly tonight?" she asked.

He didn't even look up as he began to wrap Edith's gift. "Yes. It just took Moira longer to fall asleep. I had to read _Corduroy_ and _Strega Nonna_ before she started to doze off."

"That's unusual."

Tom chuckled. "It is, but it's not a surprise. Christmas is next week and she knew we were wrapping presents tonight. She was fighting sleep because she wanted to know what she's getting."

Sybil chuckled. "That does make sense."

"And she's about to become a big sister. She's really excited about that."

She smiled to herself, pleased at her daughter's enthusiasm for her unborn baby brother or sister.

After that, Sybil and Tom chatted as he wrapped the gifts. It was going smoothly with Sybil only making a suggestion her or there until they got to her father's present. They were giving him _The Nile_ by Toby Wilkinson and Moira was giving him a mug that she and Sybil painted together at the Pottery Café. It should have been easy to wrap his gifts. However, Tom had chosen the dancing penguin wrapping paper instead of the red wrapping paper.

"No don't use that paper! Use the red!"

Tom gazed up at her, a smirk on his face. "No. Moira informed me that she wanted Grampy's gift wrapped with this wrapping paper because it's 'pretty and fun'. She insisted."

Sybil arched her eyebrow. "You do know that you're the parent. You can say no to her, Tom."

"I know I'm the parent and I do say no to her. But this seemed like something minor."

She sighed. "So your wrapping the Earl of Grantham's Christmas gifts in dancing penguin wrapping paper?"

"Yes," Tom answered. "Besides, I can't wait to see his face when we hand him his gift."

"Oh Tom!" Sybil exclaimed.

"You know he'll love it, especially when Moira tells him she chose the wrapping paper." He chuckled. "She's got him wrapped around her little finger."

Sybil smiled. "She does, doesn't she?"

"Oh yeah. Big time."

Sybil sighed and thought it over. "Okay. Go for it. I'll make sure I have my camera ready before we hand him his gift."

Tom laughed and went back to wrapping Robert's gifts. They continued wrapping presents for another hour, debating at times the best wrapping paper and which bows to use. Yet for Sybil, it was one of the best and most relaxing nights spent with her Tom.


	16. Day 16: Fireplace

For those who will wonder, a snuggler, in this instance, is a wide armchair. Also, if my descriptions of fireplaces and their fires are off, please forgive me. I have lived my entire life in apartments. I have never had a fireplace, unless you count the fake one my dad used to put up at Christmas. The only one I've seen in person is at my uncle's house, but it hasn't been lit in a long time.

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><p>Tom and Sybil were nestled together on the cerulean blue snuggler in their bedroom, warmed by the roaring flames of the fireplace. Their hands were clasped and resting on her stomach. After a busy day of barely seeing each other, the couple were just enjoying sitting together.<p>

It was Tom who broke the silence. "I'm sorry about today, love. I was just about to leave for the doctor's when all hell broke loose."

Sybil snuggled closer to him. "It's okay. I know you couldn't help it."

"So how did it go?"

"The baby and I are fine. I'm 80% effaced and nearly 2 cm dilated."

Tom beamed as he rubbed her belly. "We might have the baby here for Christmas."

She groaned. "I hope not."

Seeing the look on her husband's face, she hurried to clarify what she meant. "I do want the baby to come soon, but I'm hoping for the baby to wait until after Christmas. Like in the New Year."

"Why?"

"I want the baby to be able to celebrate their birthday and be the main attraction, so to speak."

Wrapping his arm around her, he asked, "But you won't be disappointed if the baby comes before then, right?"

She shook her head. "No. I do want to meet this little one so much and I am tired of being pregnant. I just know from friends that December birthdays, especially those close to Christmas, can be horrible. People think it's okay to give a child one gift for two occasions."

Tom kissed her on the nose. "My beautiful wife always thinking about others first."

She blushed. "Not always. I do want something for myself.

Sybil then leaned in and kissed her husband. The kiss started out chastely but soon was full of fire and passion. Hands began to wander, and eventually Tom's hand was on Sybil's breast when the door to their bedroom creaked open, causing the two to jump away from each other.

Turning towards the door, they saw their two-year-old daughter rubbing her eyes and holding her stuffed Olaf doll. "Mummy, daddy I can't sleep."

Sybil reacted quickly, opening her arms to her daughter. The little girl ran to her mother and was quickly pulled onto her lap. Tom was thankful that Sybil's legs were over a certain part of his body, though his daughter's interruption was a definite mood killer.

It took Moira several minutes to get comfortable, eventually ending up in her father's lap. She was curled up against his chest, her thumb in her mouth and Olaf close to her.

"Tell me a story, daddy," she said, looking up at him with her blue eyes. "Please."

Tom couldn't refuse her. "What would you like to hear?"

She thought about this for a few minutes, before answering. "The Wonderful Tune, please."

"All right."

He pulled her closer and began to tell her the story.

_Maurice O'Connor was the king, and that's no small word, of all the pipers in Munster. He could play jig and planxty without end, and Ollistrum's March, and the Eagle's Whistle, and the Hen's Concert, and odd tunes of every sort and kind. But he knew one, far more surprising than the rest, which had in it the power to set everything dead or alive dancing._

_In what way he learned it is beyond my knowledge, for he was mighty cautious about telling how he came by so wonderful a tune. At the very first note of that tune, the brogues began shaking upon the feet of all who heard it - old or young it mattered not -just as if their brogues had the ague; then the feet began going - going - going from under them, and at last up and away with them, dancing like mad ! - whisking here, there, and everywhere, like a straw in a storm - there was no halting while the music lasted !_

_Not a fair, nor a wedding, nor a patron in the seven parishes round, was counted worth the speaking of without "blind Maurice and his pipes." His mother, poor woman, used to lead him about from one place to another, just like a dog._

He wasn't even halfway through the story when both Moira and Sybil fell asleep. Tom looked at his wife and daughter, _my Sleeping Beauties_ he thought, and smiled. He knew he would need to bring Moira back to her bedroom and wake Sybil so she wouldn't have an aching neck in the morning, but right in that moment, he was enjoying holding his loves in front of the fireplace.


	17. Day 17: Socks

Again, thank you for your lovely reviews. I hope you enjoy this ficlet. I can't believe I have written 17 of these fics. Eight more to go!

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><p>Sybil and Moira were in the living room watching <em>White Christmas<em>, when the doorbell rang. Sybil rose from her spot on the sofa and went to see who was there. She was pleased to see the postman at the door with several packages.

"Hello, Mrs. Branson."

She smiled. "Hi, Ned. How are you?"

"Busy. I have a bunch of packages for little Miss Branson from Ireland." Glancing down at her stomach, he added, "I can bring them in for you."

She laughed. "Thank you!"

She opened the door and stepped back, allowing Ned to enter. He picked up a stack of boxes and entered the house, carefully maneuvering around the furniture and one or two of Moira's toys.

Moira waved and greeted him. "Hi, Mr. Mackay."

He grinned at her. "Hello, Miss Moira. I think I have some Christmas presents for you."

Her eyes lit up and widened in joy. "Presents! Can I open them?"

"Not until Christmas Day. You know the rules, darling," answered Sybil.

Ned chuckled. "Actually, I think she can open one." He lifted a small package up and handed it to Sybil. "It says 'Must be opened before Christmas' on it."

"So it does!" She shook her head when she saw it was from Maureen and Malachy. _They spoil her so_.

Ned went back outside and grabbed more packages. Once he put them down, he said, "That's it. Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Mackay!" shouted Moira.

Sybil escorted him out. "Thank you and Happy Christmas."

Ned nodded and went on his way. Sybil shut the door and returned to the living room, only to see Moira shaking a box, trying to figure out what was inside.

"Moira Evelyn Branson, put the Christmas gift down," she firmly stated.

The little girl looked up at her mother, a guilty expression on her face. "Sorry."

Sybil smiled and walked over to her daughter. "Let's see what Granny Mo and Granda sent you to open now."

Moira grinned and began hopping in her excitement. Sybil opened the package to reveal Christmas socks for Moira and reindeer booties for the baby. Inside, there was a message which read

_Sybil, Tom, & Moira,_

_We saw these on the John Lewis website and had to order them. I know the baby isn't due until after Christmas, but something tells me this little Branson will be greeting the world very soon. As for the socks, Malachy insisted that Moira needed them. We hope she likes them. We miss you. Happy Christmas!_

_Love,_  
><em>Granny Mo and Granda<em>

The two-year-old tugged on her mummy's arm. "What does it say?"

Sybil grinned. "It's a message from Granny Mo and Granda. They miss us and wish us a Happy Christmas. Your granda insisted that you needed these," she lifted up the socks, "and they sent a gift for the baby." She showed her daughter the reindeer booties.

"Awww. They're cute!"

"They are and so are your brand new Christmas socks."

She handed them to Moira who squealed in delight at having Frosty, Rudolph, and Santa on her socks.

"Can I put them on?" she asked.

"Yes, you may. We'll save Santa for Christmas Day. Rudolph or Frosty?"

"Rudolph!" the little girl shouted.

Sybil nodded and ten minutes later, Moira had her Rudolph socks on. She was so happy about her socks, she asked if they could put Rudolph on. Her mummy agreed and they changed the DVDs. Moira plopped herself down on the floor with a pillow and the wool blanket, quickly getting absorbed into the movie.

As her daughter watched the movie, Sybil sat on the sofa, gazing at the reindeer booties. She was touched by the gift, knowing their son or daughter would look absolutely adorable in them. She was pulled out of her thoughts by Moira, who was singing along to "Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer." The little girl was lying on her back and kicking up her feet as she sang along. Sybil chuckled at her daughter's antics.

Once the special and the song was over, she shouted, "I love my socks!"

Then she turned to her mother and said, "Granda was right."

Moira followed up her words by spinning to face her mummy and showing off her Rudolph socks.

Sybil laughed, grateful for her goofy but sweet daughter.


	18. Day 18: Biscuits and Milk

Robert was reading E.T.A. Hoffmann's _The Nutcracker and the Mouse King_ to Moira when the little girl tugged on her grampy's shirt. He stopped reading and looked down at her.

"Grampy, I'm hungry."

He closed the book and gave his granddaughter a little smile. "You are. Let's go see what Mrs. Patmore has for us to eat."

"Okay!"

He placed the book on the coffee table and rose from the sofa with Moira in his arms. She wrapped her little arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder. Robert gave her a tender look. He still could not get over how much Moira was like her mother. Sybil was the same way as a child. She was always giving people hugs and seeking out ways to help. Mrs. Patmore, the family cook, and Mrs. Hughes, Cora's longtime assistant, were especially fond of his daughter and now his granddaughter. Robert kissed her on her curly head and walked them to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen, Robert and Moira saw Mrs. Patmore feeding the fruit cake. He knocked on the door to get her attention.

Mrs. Patmore turned at the sound and grinned at the sight before her. It was widely acknowledged by the family's three employees (Mr. Carson, Robert's aide) that Moira had her grampy wrapped around her little finger.

"How can I help you, Sir? And Miss Moira?"

The two-year-old grinned. "I'm hungry. Do you have any biscuits?" she asked as innocently as she could.

Mrs. Patmore and Robert laughed. The cook answered. "I do. I have a whole bunch I made recently. Shall I bring two plates out?"

Robert nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Patmore."

"And milk please!" shouted Moira.

Rubbing his ear, her grandfather said, "And two glasses of milk."

While Mrs. Patmore put their plates together, grandfather and granddaughter sat at the kitchen island waiting. Moira held her grampy's hand as she squirmed in excitement. Robert smiled down at her, thrilled that he got to spend the day with his granddaughter. Cora, Mary, and Edith treated Sybil to a special pregnancy massage at Sofitel Spa, followed by a leisurely late lunch and possibly some baby shopping.

He was brought out of his thoughts by two plates being placed before him and Moira. This was soon followed by two glasses of milk. His granddaughter bounced in her seat as she took in the treats on her plate. There were gingerbread people, sugar biscuits, chocolate chip biscuits, and brownies. She didn't know which one to have first.

Robert knew what she was thinking, remembering his youngest at the same age. "I always save the gingerbread biscuits for the end. I'm going to have the chocolate chip ones first."

Moira nodded. "Me too."

Together, grandfather and granddaughter picked up one chocolate chip biscuit and dunked it into their glasses of milk. They happily munched on their milk soaked biscuits, laughing and chatting as they ate.

Once their plates were clear and their glasses empty, Robert and Moira turned to each other and laughed. Both had milk moustaches. Mrs. Patmore peeked in from the pantry to see what the two were laughing at, chuckling when she saw their milk moustaches. She quickly wet too paper towels and handed them to Robert. He cleaned off Moira's face and she cleaned off his.

They offered to help Mrs. Patmore clean up, but she insisted she could do it herself. Robert hoisted his granddaughter up to return to the library. Again, she wrapped her little arms around his neck and uttered, "Love you, Grampy."


	19. Day 19: Santa

**Authors Note:** The Santa grotto I mention in the story, The Enchanted Christmas House, is an actual place parents and children can visit in London. By the looks of it, tickets should be purchased in advanced.

* * *

><p>Sybil and Tom watched their daughter as she scrambled to put on the Anna costume in The Garden of Winter Wonder at The Enchanted Christmas House. The tickets to the house had been a gift from Mary and Edith to the Bransons, handed over to Sybil yesterday after her spa day. She had tried to turn it down, but her sisters had played the auntie card, insisting they had every right to spoil their only niece.<p>

Seeing her struggle to get the costume on, Tom left Sybil's side and went to help Moira. Soon, she was fully costumed and the excited little girl delved into the 'Construction Zone'. Sybil stood back and watched as Moira and Tom built something together, though she wasn't exactly sure what it was, only for her daughter to knock it down and laugh. From there, the little girl moved on to the puppets, insisting that both her parents join her. Sybil laughed and followed her 'orders'.

Over two hours and a thrilling interactive experience later, The Bransons were about to have their meeting with Santa Claus. Moira was hopping with excitement, going over with her Christmas list with her parents.

"I want paper dolls, Legos, a teddy bear, and a necklace. Oh and a sled!" the little girl exclaimed.

Tom looked down at his daughter. "A sled!"

"Yes! For the snow," she stated matter-of-factly.

Before either of her parents could reply, Jack the Elf, who Moira was quite infatuated with, approached the family to bring them to Santa. He walked them to Santa's Grotto and opened the door, allowing the Bransons to go through.

Once inside, Moira ran up to Santa and said, "Hi Mr. Santa!"

Santa smiled at the two-year-old and greeted her in return. "Hello, Moira!"

Her eyes widened and her face lit up when he said her name. She couldn't believe it!

"You really are Santa!" Moira shouted.

Then with a little assistance from the man in red, she hopped on to his lap.

He playfully adjusted his glasses and began to talk to the toddler. "Now Moira, I've gone over my list and I see you've been very nice this year."

She nodded her head. "I've eaten my veggies and helped mummy."

"So I see," he replied. "What do you want for Christmas?"

Moira took a deep breath. "I want Legos, paper dolls, a necklace, and a teddy bear. And I want the baby born."

"Baby?" he asked, startled.

"Yes," she replied, pointing towards her mummy. "The baby in mummy's tummy."

Santa laughed, realizing what she was requesting. "I think the first four are doable. I'll do my best with the baby. Okay."

"Okay."

"Now," Santa said, "let's take a picture together so you will always remember me."

"I won't forget!" Moira exclaimed.

Tom and Sybil chuckled at her enthusiasm. She briefly glanced at them, flashing her parents a smile.

"Can mummy and daddy be in the picture?" she asked Santa.

"Of course," he robustly pronounced. "The more the merrier!"

He waved Tom and Sybil over. The couple, knowing better than to disobey Santa, strolled over and stood on opposite sides of the jolly man. The group all smiled and their picture was taken. Before she left, Santa handed Moira a wrapped present.

"Merry Christmas, Moira Branson!"

Beaming, she responded, "Merry Christmas, Santa!"

With that, the Bransons left the grotto, Moira skipping in delight.


	20. Day 20: Sled

This one is longer than usual, but for good reason. I hope you all enjoy it.

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><p>Sybil, Tom, and Moira were in the living room when they heard the car pull up outside, followed shortly by a knock on the door. As Tom went to answer the door, Moira popped out from under the Christmas tree.<p>

"Who's that?"

Sybil smiled. "I'm not sure. It's either your Auntie Mary or your godfather Matthew."

The little girl scrunched up her face, trying to remember who Matthew was, causing her mummy to chuckle.

"He's been away for over a year, but he's back now."

"Okay."

Tom returned at that moment followed closely by Matthew who was carrying a big package. He placed it down on the floor and went over to greet Sybil, kissing her on the cheek.

"You're absolutely glowing!" he said.

Sybil smiled at Matthew. "Thank you. You look fantastic yourself. Tom told me you were no longer blonde, but it looks like you've been going to the gym."

He smiled in return. "I have. I had a gym membership through the New York firm."

Matthew turned to Tom, who was standing with Moira. "And this must be Moira. You've grown so much since I last saw you." He bent down to her level. "Do you remember me?"

She shook her head.

"That's okay. I'm back in England now and we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other." He nodded towards the package. "That's for you and you absolutely must open it now."

Moira giggled and threw herself into opening the package while her parents looked on with trepidation. Soon paper was flying all over the place, revealing two boxes, one displaying a pull sled and the other a red sled pad.

"It's a sled!" shouted Moira. She threw herself at Matthew, giving him a fierce hug.

Turning to her daddy, she exclaimed, "Santa listened to me! See daddy! See!"

"Yes, love, I see," he replied, though he did give Matthew an annoyed look.

Matthew returned his look, not caring that Tom was annoyed, and thrilled that his goddaughter loved her gift.

Moira turned to her mother. "Mummy look! I got my sled!"

Though Sybil was not thrilled about the sled, she couldn't help but smile at her daughter's reaction to the present. "I see, darling. Did you thank Matthew?"

Her eyes bulged out of her head. She quickly turned to him and said, "Thank you, Matthew!"

He chuckled at her enthusiasm. "You're very welcome. Let's open it so we can see you on the sled."

"Yes!"

An hour later, Matthew and Moira were playing together in the living room with Sybil and Tom looking on. The two had become fast friends, with the toddler liking him not only for giving her a sled, but because he was willing to get on the floor to play with her. At that moment, they were having a tickle fight.

Looking at their antics, Tom uttered, "He's very good with her."

Sybil nodded. "He is."

"What time is Mary getting here?" he asked.

"Not for another two hours. She had a business meeting today and she expected it to go long."

"Who holds a business meeting on a Saturday?"

Sybil sighed. "It was the only day available for all parties involved."

Tom nodded and returned to looking at Moira and Matthew at play. After a few minutes, he turned back to Sybil.

"Should we delay him to make sure he's here when Mary gets here?"

"Oh Tom," she murmured. "I don't think we should meddle. I've tried for over a year to get Mary to tell me the reason for the breakup. She still refuses to divulge it. Perhaps we should leave it be."

He nodded. "I see your point, but at the very least, they should talk. It's not fair that Matthew has felt like he shouldn't come around because he's no longer dating your sister. He's my best friend and Moira's godfather."

She thought over his words before responding. "You're right. But let's not force it too much."

"Okay."

They continued talking about this and that, content that Matthew was entertaining Moira. However, five minutes later there was a knock at their door. Both looked up, hoping it was the postman, but fearing it was Mary.

"I'll get it," announced Tom, rising quickly from his spot on the sofa.

Opening the door, he saw his sister-in-law standing there. Tom was surprised to see her so soon. From the look of it, Mary had just come from her meeting.

Smiling, Mary greeted Tom as she entered the cottage. "Hello, Tom. I know I'm here earlier than expected. Thankfully, I overestimated how long the meeting would last. It's another benefit of the holiday season. How are Sybil and Moira?"

Tom took a breath and answered. "They're fine. Um, we do have some company over."

"Mama and papa?" she asked.

"No." He hesitated before telling her. "Matthew."

Mary stopped in her tracks. She hadn't expected to hear _that_ today. However, she knew this meeting was inevitable. Tom and Matthew were close and he was Moira's godfather. This meeting was long overdue.

She gave Tom a small smile. "We were bound to meet in person at some point. It would have happened sooner if Matthew hadn't gone to New York for a year." She handed her coat and scarf to Tom. "Lead the way, Tom."

He hung up her coat and lead the way into the living room. Sybil's eyes widened in surprise when she saw her older sister. Moira and Matthew looked up when they heard footsteps, each having different reactions. While Matthew looked uncomfortable, the toddler grinned.

"Hi Auntie Mary!" she exclaimed, before popping up from her spot next to her godfather and running over to her aunt. Mary picked her up and gave her hug.

"Hello, my little darling! How are you?"

Moira gave her aunt a toothy grin. "Great! Look at my sled!"

Mary glanced at the sled. "It's beautiful, Moira!"

"Matthew gave it to me!"

"He did!" Mary exclaimed. "Well that was very nice of him."

"It was." She then kissed her aunt on the cheek and squirmed down from her embrace, running back to Matthew.

The two returned back to playing together while Sybil, Mary, and Tom sat down to talk.

Mary began their conversation. "I didn't know Matthew was going to visit today."

Tom looked a bit sheepish. "I mentioned to him last week that you were going to be visiting." His sister-in-law gave him a look, but he continued. "Don't worry. He called last night and asked when would be a good time to come over today. Matthew made it clear that he didn't want to interfere with your time with Moira."

Mary looked down at her lap, touched by Matthew's thoughtfulness. "That was very kind of him."

Sybil smiled. "It was. Though Tom was still contemplating trying to get you two into a room together to talk."

Tom smirked. "Well, I just want you and Matthew to be happy."

Mary reached over and touched Tom's arm. "I know you mean well, but it's more complicated than you would understand."

Sybil sighed. "If you would just tell us, oh!"

Eight pairs of eyes turned to Sybil when she made that noise. Tom's head whipped so quickly towards his wife, concern evidently etched on his face.

Taking her hand, he asked, "Are you okay, love?"

She gave a wan smile. "Um, I am at the moment. But my water just broke."

With those five words, everyone sprang into action. Tom bolted up and went to get Sybil's bag in their bedroom. Mary sat with her sister, holding her hand. Matthew and Moira looked on, the adult concerned while the toddler looked confused. When Tom returned, Sybil slowly rose, readying to leave for the hospital.

Tom spoke directly to Mary and Matthew. "Can one of you please stay with Moira?"

Matthew spoke for them both. "We'll happily watch her. Do you need us to call anyone?"

The other man shook his head. "No. I called Dr. Taylor while I was in our bedroom. I'll call my parents and Cora and Robert when we get to the hospital."

"I'll call Edith," Mary interjected. "Just let us know when you get there."

"I will," Tom replied.

"And keeps us informed," said Matthew.

"I will," said Tom.

Tom kneeled down to his daughter and gave her a little hug. Seeing how confused she was , he chuckled.

Leaning in, he whispered, "The baby's coming."

Moira's eyes lit up with joy. "Can I help?"

Sybil beamed at her daughter and gestured for her to come towards her. The toddler scurried over. Sybil sat back down and hugged her daughter.

"Yes, you can help. Daddy and I need you to listen to Auntie Mary and Matthew while we're at the hospital. Can you do that?"

Moira nodded her head vigorously. Sybil kissed her on the head.

"Thank you," she whispered to her daughter. "I promise daddy will let you know as soon as the baby is born. Okay?"

"Okay?"

Tom kissed his daughter on her curly head and then helped Sybil up. They hurried out the door, leaving Moira in Mary and Matthew's care.

The first few hours went by relatively peacefully. Mary and Matthew's main struggle was keeping Moira occupied. It felt like every five minutes she would ask if the baby had been born yet. Eventually, Matthew kept her occupied by watching _Frozen_ and _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ with her.

Around 5 PM, Mary received a text from Tom.

Tom: 5 cm dilated. half way to the goal

Tom: how's Moira?

Mary smiled as she read the text and responded.

Mary: Matthew's keeping her entertained.

Mary: What should we do for dinner?

Tom: pizza express Moira likes the margherita pizza

She texted back a quick thanks. Returning to the living room, Moira looked up at her aunt.

"Your mummy's at the halfway point but she still has a ways to go."

Moira sighed dramatically, so wanting to hear that she had a baby brother or sister.

"However, your daddy said we could order from Pizza Express for dinner."

That news brought a grin to the toddler's face. "Pizza!"

"Yes, pizza," Mary happily repeated.

It was surprisingly quick to decide what to order and by six they were eating. After dinner, Moira got cranky, missing her parents and wanting news from the hospital. Around eight, Mary got her into her pajamas. However, Moira refused to fall asleep. Desperate, her aunt brought her back downstairs. Matthew took over from there. He wisely put _Frozen_ back on, but allowed Moira to sit in her new sled as she watched it. There she fell asleep, a pillow supporting her head and a wool blanket over her little body.

At first, Mary and Matthew didn't talk, but just flipped through the channels. However, as the hours passed, the tension built between the two. Finally, Mary broke the silence.

"How have you been?"

He smiled a little. "I've been good. And you?"

"I've been good as well. Are you seeing anyone?"

He shook his head. "Not at the moment. I did briefly date someone over the summer, but it didn't work out." He paused. "Tom told me that you briefly dated someone."

Mary nodded. "I did. It didn't last long, but it was nice."

"I'm glad," Matthew said, truly meaning it.

She sighed. "I'm sorry we couldn't make it work."

"Me too." He turned to face her. "Do you still feel the same?"

"About children?" she asked.

He nodded yes to her.

"I do," Mary replied. "I know people will think I'm selfish, but I don't want children. I'm happy to be an aunt to Sybil's children and to any Edith has in the future."

Matthew looked down, disappointed. He had hoped Mary would change her mind, but now he knew he was wrong.

Seeing his face, Mary knew he hadn't changed his mind. "I take it you still want them."

"I do."

"Then we're right back at where we left things a year ago."

"No, we're not," responded Matthew. "We can choose to truly let go of our relationship, move forward, and be civil, if not friends. I want to be part of Moira's life. She's a wonderful little girl."

Mary smiled. "She is." Deciding to extend an olive branch, she added, "You're very good with her. You'll make a wonderful father someday."

"Thank you."

After that, Mary and Matthew passed the time quietly. They talked about work, but mostly watched some movies and watched for text messages from Tom. Finally, at half past three in the morning, they both received picture texts from Tom.

Opening the messages, the saw a simultaneously exhausted and euphoric Sybil holding a squalling baby.

Tom: Rory Michael Branson, 7 lbs 13 oz, 21 in long, born at 3:18 am

Mary and Matthew looked at each other and smiled.

"Should I let Moira know?" Matthew asked her.

Mary thought about it. Remembering how much her niece wanted to know if her sibling had been born yet, she nodded her head.

He rose from the couch and got down on the floor. Gently, Matthew roused the toddler from her sleep.

Blinking up at Matthew, Moira asked, "Baby?"

He smiled. "You have a baby brother named Rory."

Moira smiled happily. Just as quickly, her exhaustion overtook her and she was soon falling back asleep. However, her last words before sleep took her elicited smiled from Mary and Matthew.

"I'll share the sled with him."


	21. Day 21: Snowman

**Author's Note:** I did some research on UK births and when a mother would return home from the hospital, as I know there are differences between the US and the UK. Based on one or two sites, the fact that the baby and Sybil are very healthy, and that this is the Bransons second child, I decided to have them return home the day after Sybil went into labor.

* * *

><p>Sybil gazed down at her baby, sleeping soundly in her arms after a feeding. She couldn't stop looking at her little guy, marveling at how much he looked like Tom. At that moment, Rory momentarily woke, blinking in confusion, sneezing, then going right back to sleep. Sybil chuckled softly and began to sing softly to him.<p>

_Baby mine, don't you cry_  
><em>Baby mine, dry your eyes<em>  
><em>Rest your head close to my heart<em>  
><em>Never to part, baby of mine.<em>

_Little one when you play_  
><em>Don't you mind what they say<em>  
><em>Let those eyes sparkle and shine<em>  
><em>Never a tear, baby of mine.<em>

Tom entered the room as she was singing, quietly standing there, absorbed by the sight before him. He was happier than he ever thought possible.

_If they knew sweet little you_  
><em>They'd end up loving you too<em>  
><em>All those same people who scold you<em>  
><em>What they'd give just for<em>  
><em>The right to hold you.<em>

_From your head to your toes_  
><em>You're not much, goodness knows<em>  
><em>But you're so precious to me<em>  
><em>Cute as can be, baby of mine.<em>

Sybil finished singing and glanced up, surprised to see Tom in the room with her. She grinned at him, her happiness shining through.

Smiling back, he whispered, "How's the little guy?"

"Tired. Though he's not so little. He's over a pound heavier than Moira was and she was five days overdue." She shifted him closer. "I'm actually glad he came now. Imagine how big he would have been if I'd gone full term."

Tom chuckled. "I don't think you'd ever let me touch you again."

She raised her eyebrow. "Who says that still won't happen, Mr. Branson?"

They both cracked up laughing.

Gazing down at Rory, Sybil asked, "Did you call home? How's Moira?"

"I did. She can't wait to meet the baby. Your parents relieved Mary and Matthew a few hours ago. Moira had just gotten out of the bath when I called." He chuckled. "Apparently, your sister and my best friend allowed her to sleep in her sled last night."

"They didn't!"

"Oh they did. I have a feeling that was more Matthew than Mary."

He walked over to the bed and eased himself on to it, wrapping his arm around Sybil while his other went to support the baby. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted and a little sore, but happy all the same. Dr. Taylor thinks we should be able to go home in a few hours."

"Really?" he asked.

She nodded. "Rory's healthy and I've had no complications. He feeds with minimal fuss, as you saw earlier."

Tom smiled. "When will we know for sure?"

"She said she stop by again around eleven."

He looked at his watch. "Thirty minutes. Okay. May I hold my son?"

"Of course!"

Sybil gently handed Tom their newborn son and sat back to watch her two men.

* * *

><p>An hour later, the Bransons were preparing to leave the hospital with Rory. Their first task was getting Rory dressed. Tom removed from the travel bad the taking home outfit Sybil had put together: white onesie, white socks, white converter gown, and a black beanie. As she started to put the newborn into his onesie, Sybil giggled, remembering how terrified she had been when doing the same task with Moira nearly three years before.<p>

Tom turned toward his wife when he heard her giggle. Realizing why she was giggling, he smiled. "It's different from when we were dressing Moira, isn't it?"

She breathed out a laugh. "Definitely. I'm not absolutely terrified that I'm going to hurt him."

Tom chuckled. "I'm not having a panic attack, thinking I'm going to break him."

Sybil laid the baby gently on the changing mat and buttoned the onesie. As she did that, Tom unbuttoned the converter gown and laid it out next to Rory. She slipped on the socks and then carefully placed the baby into the outfit.

"I need your opinion. Do you think I should keep it as a gown or should I button it to fit his legs?" she asked.

Tom thought for a moment before answering. "Fit it to his legs. It'll be easier when we buckle him into the car seat."

His wife shook her head, annoyed with herself. "I should know this. This isn't the first time I've done this."

Her husband leaned over and gave her a kiss. "You gave birth eight and half hours ago, Syb. You're allowed to have a moment. Or ten."

She gave him a soft smile. "Thank you for saying that."

Sybil finished buttoning up the gown and then placed the beanie on Rory's head. She picked him up and brought him close.

"Are you nice and comfy, my little lion?"

Tom laughed, earning him a glare from Sybil. "Don't look at me like that. He looks more like a snowman than a lion. Did Moira help you pick out the coming home outfit?"

Sybil took in her son and her eyes widened. "Oh my God! She did! It was the same day she watched _Frosty the Snowman_. I can't believe I didn't realize it at the time."

Her husband laughed and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He planted a kiss on his son's forehead and said, "Let's get Rory the Snowman home so Princess Moira can meet him."

Sybil tried not to smile, but gave in and laughed.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, after signing a bunch a paperwork and driving as slowly as legally possible, Sybil, Tom, and Rory arrived at the cottage. Tom helped Sybil out of the car and then removed Rory, car seat and all, from the car. His wife led the way to their front door, opening it only to be greeted by an excited toddler. Moira hugged her mummy's legs, having missed her while she was at the hospital.<p>

Robert came up behind Moira and picked her up. "Let your mummy and daddy in, darling. You won't be able to meet your brother otherwise."

"Okay Grampy."

The family came fully into the house. Once settled, Tom removed Rory from his car seat and handed him to a now sitting Sybil. Moira was sitting next to her and Cora was next to the toddler.

"Moira, here is your baby brother Rory. Would you like to hold him?"

She nodded her head repeatedly, eager to hold her baby brother.

"Now you must be careful with him. You need to use both hands."

"Yes, mummy."

Sybil placed Rory in his sister's arms, making sure his head was properly supported.

"Hello Rory. I'm Moira. Your sister. You look like a tiny snowman."

He opened his eyes at that moment and stared at his older sister. Then he yawned and went back to sleep.

Moira smiled at her baby brother. "Awww. You need a nap." She kissed his forehead. "Don't worry. I'll watch over you."

She held her brother for a while, only allowing her mummy to take him back when he needed his nappy changed. After that, both Cora and Robert held their newest grandchild, cooing over the little boy. Moira watched her grandparents like a hawk, keeping true to her word to watch over him.

Later on, after Cora and Robert left, Rory was sleeping in his Moses basket on the floor. Sybil was sitting next the basket, gazing at her baby. Moira came into the room, now dressed in her reindeer pajamas, and sat next to her mummy. She peered into the basket, getting a good view of Rory. She fell asleep there, acting as sentry, within the hour.


	22. Day 22: Sleigh Bells

The Bransons, minus Moira, were sitting in the living room listening to some Christmas music. Sybil finished feeding Rory five minutes before. The baby boy was now resting on his father's shoulder as Tom gently burped him. He finally let out a hearty burp. Tom then altered his position, moving his son from his shoulder into a cradle position. The father momentarily glanced at the clock on their CD player.

"It's half past three. Moira should be home soon. How did you convince her to go and play at Alice's?"

Sybil smirked. "It wasn't easy. She wanted Alice to come over here, but I'm just not up to dealing with two toddlers and a newborn. I'll get Joan and Andrew something nice in the New Year to make up for it."

Tom chuckled. "Why don't you go and take a nap? I can take care of Rory."

She gave him a little smirk. "Father-son bonding time?"

"Something like that. I thought I'd turn the Christmas tree lights on and sit with him on the floor. Maybe tell him a story."

Sybil sighed. "I'll take a nap, but I'll take it here. I don't have the energy to climb the stairs."

"Do you need me to grab the blanket for you?" asked Tom.

"No," she softly said, "you have your hands filled right now."

She got up and grabbed a pillow and wool blanket. As she did that, Tom rose with Rory in his arms, turned on the tree lights, and sat down on the floor. He angled his son so he was facing the lights and began to tell him a story. Sybil laid down on the sofa, watching Tom and Rory bond.

About ten minutes later, the door opened, revealing Moira followed closely by Joan.

"Hi," Joan whispered, seeing Sybil sleeping on the sofa. "How are you, Tom? And how is the baby?"

Tom grinned. "I'm tired, but it's worth it. And Rory is great. I was telling him a story as he looked at the lights on the tree."

Moira had wandered over to her mummy, and on seeing her sleeping, kissed her on the forehead. She turned to her daddy and baby brother as Tom and Joan talked.

"Mrs. Carroll, isn't my baby brother cute?"

Joan smiled. "He is very cute." She looked at Tom. "She couldn't stop talking about him today. Andrew found it amusing, but in a good way."

Tom beamed when he heard that. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Oh Daddy! Look what Alice gave me for Christmas!" exclaimed the two year old, holding up a pair of child size handheld sleigh bells.

Joan gave him an apologetic look. "We bought them over a month ago. I didn't think the baby would be born yet."

Tom shook his head. "It's alright. Sybil and I decided to not limit the noise in the house unless it was really loud."

Moira sat down next to her father and brother and began to talk to Rory. "Hi Rory! Did you see my Christmas present?" She held the sleigh bells up to him. "Alice gave them to me. I can play them for you."

With that, she stood and started to shake the bells, dancing as she played with them. Sybil woke up at the sound of the bells ringing. While she was momentarily annoyed, she began to laugh at the spectacle of her two-year-old daughter dancing and jingling bells for her brother.


	23. Day 23: Carols

Thank you once again to everyone who has read and reviewed this story. I want to send out a special thanks to _**scarletcourt**_, who pointed out to me that I apparently left Alice at home by herself in the previous chapter. I meant to write in that Joan's husband Andrew was home, but I forgot. I made a few changes to the previous chapter today to include a brief mention of Andrew. The changes should be up soon.

* * *

><p>As Sybil napped upstairs, Tom was in the living room with Moira and a sleeping Rory when the newborn began to cry. He rose from the sofa and picked the baby up from his bassinette.<p>

"What's wrong, Rory? You can't be hungry. You just finished eating fifteen minutes ago. Are you wet?" He patted his son's bottom and made a face. "You're wet and dirty. Let's get you out that nasty diaper."

He placed his son in the Moses basket on the floor and went to grab everything he needed. Tom returned quickly, carrying a changing mat, a clean diaper, wipes, and petroleum jelly. He sat down and removed Rory from the basket and carefully placed him on the changing mat.

As Tom quickly went about cleaning and changing his son, Moira sat down next to him and watched. She made a face when she saw his dirty diaper, which caused Tom to chuckle. Once the newborn was clean, Tom wiped some petroleum jelly on him and put him in a clean diaper. He then dressed him again and placed him in the Moses basket while he cleaned up.

When he returned to the room, Rory was mewling again.

"Rory's unhappy," Moira said as she peeked into the basket.

"I hear," replied her daddy.

Tom walked over and picked up the Moses basket, placing it on the sofa. He sat down and picked up Rory, bringing him close to his chest.

"What's wrong, little guy?"

The newborn curled into his father, making it known that he wanted a cuddle. Tom beamed, thrilled that his son instinctively knew he was safe in his daddy's arms. Moira ambled over and hopped onto the sofa next to her daddy and brother.

After watching for a few minutes, she asked, "Sing?"

Tom grinned. "What do you want to sing?"

She shrugged.

His mouth twitched, but he pushed a laugh down. "How about 'Miss Fogarty's Christmas Cake'?"

"Yeah!"

"I'll start and you' come in on the chorus."

Tom began,

_As I sat in my window last evening,  
>The letterman brought it to me<br>A little gilt-edged invitation sayin'  
>"Gilhooley come over to tea"<br>I knew that the Fogarties sent it.  
>So I went just for old friendships sake.<br>The first thing they gave me to tackle  
>Was a slice of Miss Fogarty's cake.<em>

Moira came in just after he sang cake.

_There were plums and prunes and cherries,  
>There were citrons and raisins and cinnamon, too<br>There was nutmeg, cloves and berries  
>And a crust that was nailed on with glue<br>There were caraway seeds in abundance  
>Such that work up a fine stomach ache<br>That could kill a man twice after eating a slice  
>Of Miss Fogarty's Christmas cake.<em>

Tom started the next verse.

_Miss Mulligan wanted to try it,  
>But really it wasn't no use<br>For we worked in it over an hour  
>And we couldn't get none of it loose<br>Till Murphy came in with a hatchet  
>And Kelly came in with a saw<br>That cake was enough be the powers above  
>For to paralyze any man's jaws<em>

They had just started to sing the chorus again when there was a knock on the door. Tom motioned for Moira to continue singing and rose with Rory in his arms to see who was there. On opening the door, he was delightfully surprised to see both his parents and his younger sister Aislinn. He ushered them in, turning his body slightly to protect the baby from the cold.

When the door was shut, Tom asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you were all going to Aunt Maggie's for Christmas."

Maureen Branson beamed at her son, itching to hold her grandson. "We lied. Your in-laws arranged to fly us over on their private jet today. Cora and I figured that Sybil would need help with Christmas Eve dinner if she was still pregnant. Or, as it did happen, that she would need help if she gave birth before Christmas. Speaking of which, I want to hold my grandson."

Tom chuckled and handed Rory to her. "Here you go. Moira and I were just singing to him."

Malachy chuckled. "How's she been with the baby?"

Tom grinned. "She's very protective of him."

Aislinn chimed in then. "So not like you and Kieran were with me."

Her older brother laughed and gave her a kiss. "Come on. I need to finish my song with Moira."

The group walked into the living room. Moira looked up when she heard footsteps and squealed when she saw her Grandda, Granma Mo, Auntie Ash. She ran up to her grandfather, who picked her up and gave a big kiss on the cheek.

"Hi Grandda! Granma! Auntie!" she shouted.

"Hello, my little one," Malachy said. "I heard you and your da were singing. What song?"

"Miss Fogarty to Rory," she responded matter-of-factly.

"Can we join you?" asked Aislinn.

"Of course!"

Tom interjected. "Let me take your coats first."

He took his father's and sister's coats and placed them on a chair. When he went to get his mother's, she shook him off.

"I'm busy getting to know my grandson. My coat can wait."

The group laughed. Tom turned to his daughter.

"Where were we?"

"Chorus," she said.

"Okay. One, two, three…"

With that, the five Bransons began to sing.

_There were plums and prunes and cherries,  
>There were citrons and raisins and cinnamon, too<br>There was nutmeg, cloves and berries  
>And a crust that was nailed on with glue<br>There were caraway seeds in abundance  
>Such that work up a fine stomach ache<br>That could kill a man twice after eating a slice  
>Of Miss Fogarty's Christmas cake.<em>

After they finished the rest of the song, Moira leaned forward and asked her brother, "Did you like the song, Rory?"

Rory blinked his eyes and fell back to sleep in his grandmother's arms.

His big sister looked up and announced, "That means he liked it."

The adults chuckled. Aislinn gave her niece a kiss on the forehead and turned to Tom.

"Definitely not like you and Kieran."


	24. Day 24: Chestnuts

Again, I want to thank everyone who has read this story. You guys have been wonderful! I can't believe that this is the second to last fic. I feel like I was only starting this yesterday. Well, I hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

><p>Sybil sighed as she watched her son suckle from her breast. It had been a lovely evening so far, thanks to the combined efforts of her mother-in-law Maureen and her parents cook Mrs. Patmore. She thought back to yesterday afternoon and smiled.<p>

_Sybil woke from her nap and heard noise coming from downstairs. She walked down the stairs and was greeted by the sight of Malachy holding Rory, while Moira was on Maureen's lap, as the family sat and talked. She smiled and greeted her in-laws, happily surprised by their appearance. On hearing that her mother-in-law was taking over Christmas Eve dinner, the new mother gave her a fierce hug, grateful that she wouldn't need to cancel._

_Maureen laughed. "None of that, Sybil. We're family. Just enjoy the children this year. Mrs. Patmore and I have worked everything out."_

_Her head shot up in surprise, causing Maureen to chuckle. "Your parents and us have been planning this since October. We figured that you were going to need help. Besides, Moira's at that age when children enjoy Christmas the most. Mal and I couldn't miss that."_

_Sybil blinked back tears. "Thank you."_

The entire family, including Sybil's parents and older sisters, had finished enjoying a delicious meal of poached salmon, peas, broccoli, and mashed potatoes a half hour ago. It was simply delicious and a testament to Maureen's ability to work under pressure. I guess that's where Tom gets it from, she thought.

Dinner had just ended when Rory made it known that he wanted his Christmas dinner too. Thankfully, the newborn was almost done. Though in this moment, Sybil couldn't help enjoying just looking at her little guy.

A few minutes later, the baby was finished eating and Sybil spent a good five to ten minutes burping him. Once that was finished, she wrapped him in a blanket and walked downstairs with him. She laughed when she entered the living room, seeing Moira sitting on both of her grandfathers' laps.

On seeing her mother and brother, the little girl shouted, "Mummy and Rory are here! Let's open presents!"

While both Malachy and Robert rubbed their ears, their wives chuckled. Tom, chuckling himself, replied, "Only one present, love. We have to wait until the morning to open the rest because Father Christmas hasn't arrived yet."

The two-year-old sighed. "I know."

Smiling, her daddy replied, "Good girl. Now which one do you want to open?"

Moira jumped off of her grandfathers and ran to the tree, quickly surveying her treasures. After much deliberation, she chose a small, green square present. Tom, assisting her, pulled her onto his lap and read the label.

"To Moira and Rory Love Auntie Edith. Thank you Edith."

"Thank you Auntie," chirped Moira.

Opening the gift, the toddler pulled out two shirts. One said "I'm the big sister" while the other, much smaller shirt said "I'm the little brother". Moira was confused at first until her daddy pointed out that they were matching shirts for her and her brother to wear. Loving the idea, she squealed and gave her Auntie Edith a hug.

After that, everyone opened at least one present. When that was finished it was time for dessert. Following a Crawley family tradition, dessert was roasted chestnuts and an assortment of holiday ice creams. Mrs. Patmore had made the ice cream, this year gingerbread and candy cane, from scratch while Maureen roasted the chestnuts. She did this while Sybil was feeding Rory, allowing them time to roast and cool a bit.

The family moved into the dining room, Rory now in his daddy's arms, and began to feast on their dessert. Moira was enjoying her gingerbread ice cream, but was watching everyone eating the chestnuts. She had never had them before but was curious.

"Mummy, can I have a chessnut? she asked.

"Sure," replied Sybil. "Let me help you peel off the skin."

She did so, very quickly and handed the edible chestnut to her daughter. The little girl bit into it and within moments her eyes lit up.

"Mhmmmm! Can I have more?"

Smiling, her parents replied, "Of course!"

The little girl chowed down on several more chestnuts, loving this new tradition.


	25. Day 25: Christmas Movies

Thank you everyone for reading this story. I'm both happy and sad that this is my last chapter. I might return to this universe next year to see what Sybil, Tom, Moira, and Rory are up to, but I make no promises. This has been a wonderful writing adventure. It has both challenged me and inspired me. I've had fun. i hope you all enjoy this final installment. Happy Christmas! Happy Holidays! Happy New Year!

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><p>Malachy, Maureen, Tom, and Sybil sat down on the sofa and love seat in the living room after eating a hearty Christmas breakfast. Aislinn insisted that she could take care of cleaning up and shooed everyone away. The young parents were particularly exhausted as both of their children were up at half past five that morning. Moira had more likely been up earlier, but had waited for Rory to wake up before storming into her parents' bedroom and announcing that it was Christmas morning.<p>

From there, it took all of Tom and Sybil's parenting skills to keep her from waking up her grandparents and aunt. She assisted Tom as he changed her brother's diaper, cuddled with her mother, and the family even sang quietly for a bit. After an hour, they could no longer contain her. As Rory was sleeping on his daddy's naked chest, enjoying some skin to skin time with him, Sybil went downstairs with Moira to make a pot of coffee for the rest of the household. They were surprised to find Maureen already up and cooking for the day.

The toddler squealed when she saw her Granny Mo and shouted, "Happy Christmas!"

Unfortunately, she also woke up her Grandda and aunt, who trudged into the kitchen soon afterwards. Tom followed with Rory still firmly ensconced on his chest, earning a rebuke from his mother about walking around shirtless. Though she did ease up when Sybil mentioned skin to skin contact being good for babies.

Once all the adults, minus Sybil, each had a big cup of hot coffee in their hands, the Bransons trekked into the living room and opened their presents. Moira and Rory were the darlings of the day, receiving plenty of clothes and toys to last them until next Christmas. Thankfully, Sybil and Tom had asked her father to mail their presents to Tom's family and he held on to the gifts for Malachy, Maureen, and Aislinn, enabling them to open their gifts as well. Sybil cried when she opened her gift from Tom – a simple black hinged picture frame with one picture each of Moira and Rory. Tom grinned when he saw that his wife had bought him a rare first edition of James Connolly's _Labour in Irish History_. After that, the family ate a lovely breakfast of eggs, rashers, and toast, courtesy of Aislinn and Tom. Now it was time to relax and watch Christmas movies, a tradition Sybil and Tom had started the first year of their marriage.

Looking around the living room, Sybil noticed that there were pieces of wrapping paper scattered here and there, more likely from her daughter's enthusiastic gift opening. She smiled as she recalled Moira volunteering to help Rory open his gifts, her small hand engulfing her baby brother's tiny one.

Her thoughts were broken by her daughter. "Can I watch Arthur Christmas, mummy?"

Sybil glanced at Tom, now wearing a cream colored Henley, their newborn sleeping in the bassinette, silently asking his opinion. He gave a small nod.

"Yes," she said.

Before she could continue, Moira ran to the DVD bin and grabbed the film, quickly putting it in the DVD player. The little girl then plopped down on the floor with a pillow to watch the film.

Sybil smirked at her daughter's actions, curling into her husband's side as he instinctively wrapped his right arm around her. They watched her for a bit, delighting in seeing her face light up as Arthur replied to Gwen's letter.

About twenty minutes into the film, Moira tired of the floor and hopped on to her parents laps. By the time the movie had been on for nearly an hour, she had fallen asleep, missing her favorite scene with Arthur, Briony, and Grandpa Claus fighting off the lions. Ten minutes later, Sybil and Tom were asleep, their daughter firmly nestled in their arms and their son soundly sleeping in his bassinette.

Malachy and Maureen looked on, chuckling at the little family.

"They're good parents," he quietly told his wife. "I'm proud of how Tom is so involved with his children."

Maureen smiled, a happy tear rolling down her cheek. "Me too. He doesn't leave everything to Sybil. Moira adores him."

"I know." He leaned in and kissed his wife on the cheek. "Happy Christmas, love."

"Happy Christmas, Mal."


End file.
